lY  SCHOOL  DAYi; 


WADE  H. HARRIS 


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MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

Reconstruction   Experiences   in  the   South 


By 
WADE  H.  HARRIS 

Illustrated 


New  York 

The  Neale  Publishing  Company 

1914 


Copyright,  1914,  by 
Wade  H.  Harris 


First  published,  December,  1914 


CT 


ORDER  OF  CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Preface    9 

CHAPTER 

I     In  the  Beginning 11 

II     The   Breaking  Clouds 17 

III  Poplar   Tent 20 

IV  Vacation    Reflections 26 

V     General    Lane 32 

VI     The  Powder  Bottle 36 

VII     The   Dromios 40 

VIII     The  Rogers  School 44 

IX     In  Reconstruction  Days 51 


530071 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


The  Better  Type  of  High  School— 1868, 

Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

Getting  Rid  of  Cotton  Seed  as  a  Nuisance.  .      27 
First  Cotton  Seed  Mill  in  North  Carolina — 

1868   30 

Gen.  James  H.  Lane 43 

Mr.  B.  F.  Rogers 50 


MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 


PREFACE 

The  names  of  the  boys  figuring  in  these  pages 
are  real.  There  is  small  risk.  Those  that  are 
not  dead  are  too  old  to  fight.  It  is  not  a  book 
of  fiction,  but  a  narrative  of  fact;  therefore,  the 
use  of  near-names, — or  fictitious  appellations 
whereby  the  curious  reader  familiar  with  the 
events  of  the  period  with  which  it  deals  might 
puzzle  out  identities, — would  be  foreign  to  the 
intent  of  the  writer.  His  purpose  here  is  the 
preservation  of  some  memories  of  conditions 
under  which  the  children  of  the  days  that  immedi- 
ately followed  the  Civil  War  obtained  their  edu- 
tion,  and,  too,  that  by  incidental  narrative  the 
schoolboys  and  schoolgirls  of  the  present  day 
may  have  a  contrast  by  which  they  may  come  to 
a  better  appreciation  of  the  advantages  by  which 
they  are  so  abundantly  surrounded.  The  author's 
hope  is  that  the  boys  and  girls, — his  contempo- 
raries,— may  derive  some  entertainment  from 
these  pages.  He  will,  because  of  the  form  of 
book's  dedication,  invite  a  kindly  reception  for  at 
least  one  class — the  youths  who  sturdily  trod  the 
rugged  path  of  post-bellum  education  under  the 
guidance  of  the  most  original  and  the  most  prac- 
tical educator  of  those  days,  the  late  B.  F.  Rogers. 

9 


IN  THE   BEGINNING 

The  first  molder  into  whose  hands  my  parents 
committed  the  work  of  giving  shape  to  my  youth- 
ful mental  structure  was  a  woman, — red-haired 
and  red-tempered.  She  was  an  importation  and 
had  no  acquaintance  with  the  families  in  the 
town,  and, — as  we  were  not  long  in  learning, — 
no  love  for  the  children  committed  to  her  care. 

The  schoolhouse  had  been  a  residence;  but 
it  had  been  unoccupied  for  a  number  of  months, 
and  was  in  a  bad  state  of  repair.  It  had  two 
rooms,  the  smaller  of  which  took  up  about  one- 
third  of  the  first  floor.  As  this  room  was  sufl5- 
cient  to  accommodate  the  pupils,  and  as  it  re- 
quired less  wood  for  heating  and  less  work  for 
keeping  it  in  what  passed  for  a  clean  condition, 
it  was  selected  as  the  schoolroom.  The  teacher 
elected  to  place  her  chair  in  the  center,  with  the 
children  drawn  about  her  on  chairs  and  stools. 
The  equipment  did  not  boast  even  a  bench. 
Twenty-five  or  thirty  little  boys  and  girls  an- 
swered the  roll-call.     The  oldest  was  a  girl  of 

11 


12  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

twelve  years.     Individually  and  in  the  aggregate 
the  school  was  personified  pinafore. 

At  first  the  children  thought  that  the  central 
arrangement  was  an  Indication  of  the  desire  of 
the  teacher  to  be  social  and  homelike,  but  they 
were  soon  to  be  undeceived.  The  real  purpose 
was  to  have  the  scholars  within  easy  reach  of  the 
hair-shake  for  the  little  girls  and  the  jaw-slap 
for  the  boys.  In  those  days  mother  was  the 
barber.  There  was  but  one  style  of  hair-cut,  and 
that  was  to  bob  it  behind  on  a  line  between  the 
ears.  The  only  variation  from  this  style  was  in 
the  location  of  the  line.  Some  mothers  drew  it 
from  lobe  to  lobe;  others  half-way  from  the  bot- 
tom to  the  top  of  the  ears,  and  still  others 
thought  their  offspring  would  look  better  with 
no  hair  on  the  backs  of  their  heads  lower  than 
on  a  line  drawn  from  the  top  of  one  ear  to  the 
top  of  the  other.  This  tonsorial  effect  left  a 
tuft  of  hair  on  the  head, — a  tuft  that  was  an 
opportunity  too  inviting  to  be  overlooked  by  the 
teacher.  If  it  were  a  case  of  a  girl's  needing  to 
be  disciplined,  the  teacher  would  content  herself 
with  clawing  into  the  hair  for  a  firm  grip,  and 
then  shaking  the  little  victim  almost  out  of  her 
wits.  If  it  were  a  boy,  she  would  drag  him  over 
to  one  side  of  the  room  and  beat  a  tattoo  on 
the  wall  with  his  head.  When,  on  rare  occasions, 
she  was  lucky  enough  to  have  two  boys  to  punish 


IN  THE  BEGINNING  13 

at  the  same  time,  she  would  crack  their  heads 
together,  then  Impel  each  one  to  his  chair  with 
a  smack  on  the  jaw.  She  never  used  a  switch. 
No  scholar  that  had  ever  felt  her  fingers  claw- 
ing around  his  hair  for  a  "purchase"  would  have 
stood  in  any  awe  of  the  switch. 

It  might  be  supposed  that  the  parents  of  these 
tender  martyrs  would  have  soon  found  out  the 
condition  of  affairs  in  the  school, — and  they 
probably  would  have  made  the  discovery  shortly 
after  Tommy  Scott  had  sobbed  out  his  story  of 
an  aching  scalp  to  his  mother;  but  teacher  learned 
that  very  day  what  Tommy  had  told  his  mother. 
Mrs.  Scott  was  to  blame  for  that.  Next  morning 
the  teacher  called  up  Tommy  Scott  and  got  a  grip 
on  his  hair. 

"What  do  you  (shake)  mean  by  telling 
(shake)   tales  out  of  (shake)   school?" 

Then  followed  more  shakes  and  heartbreaking 
sobs  from  little  Tom.  There  was  not  a  trembling 
little  soul  in  the  room  that  did  not  hear  the  dire 
threats  made  of  what  would  happen  to  anyone 
telling  tales  out  of  school;  and  for  weeks  the 
angelic  temper  of  this  red-headed  terror  was  un- 
known. 

However,  such  tactics  could  be  practiced  in 
concealment  for  no  great  while.  It  was  not  long 
before  pupils  began  dropping  out,  mutterings  were 
heard,  and  reports  of  the  teacher's  cruelty  began 


14  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

going  the  rounds;  then  the  children,  emboldened 
to  talk,  saw  to  it  that  the  talk  did  not  lack  the 
element  of  exaggeration.  The  teacher's  life  be- 
came so  uncomfortable  that  she  was  glad  to  take 
a  vacation, — and  from  this  vacation  she  did  not 
return. 

Naturally,  no  joyous  anticipations  of  later 
school  life  sprang  up  in  the  breasts  of  the  little 
people  from  the  ideas  gained  through  this  first 
disciplinary  experience;  but  reassurance  was  on 
the  way.     The  school  was  reorganized. 

There  were  two  women  teachers  this  time, — 
sisters, — sweet-spirited,  and  of  gentle  ways. 
Janitors  were  known  only  as  characters  in  the 
dictionary,  but  the  new  teachers  brought  over 
their  old  colored  cook  (they  lived  opposite  the 
forbidding-looking  temple  of  primary  instruc- 
tion), and  put  her  to  work  scrubbing  and  scour- 
ing, while  they  took  turns  at  dusting  the  walls 
and  washing  the  windows.  Then  from  their  own 
home  they  moved  in  chairs,  a  few  benches, — 
which  a  day  laborer  had  constructed  under  their 
direction, — a  couple  of  desks,  and  several  pieces 
of  carpeting.  When  school  reassembled,  the  whole 
atmosphere  of  the  place  was  changed.  The 
pupils  loved  the  school  from  the  first  day.  Their 
timidity  vanished,  they  no  longer  trembled  in 
fear  of  the  avenging  hand,  and  they  turned  to 
their  books  with  a  joyous  earnestness, — an  ear- 


IN  THE  BEGINNING  15 

nestness  In  marked  contrast  to  their  previous  state 
of  mental  perturbation. 

Under  the  changed  conditions  there  came  a 
change  in  the  children's  Ideas  of  school  life.  A 
love  for  teachers  and  for  books  took  root  In  their 
hearts,  and  from  that  time  on,  the  rough  places 
encountered  In  the  first  few  miles  of  the  path  along 
which  these  future  statesmen  and  suffragists  had 
been  started  were  as  forgotten  troubles. 

Another  thing  that  added  to  the  happiness  of 
the  boys  was  that  the  mothers  had  become  a 
little  bit  more  skillful  In  the  barbering  art,  and 
they  were  not  so  much  ashamed  to  have  any- 
body walk  behind  them.  The  younger  of  the 
two  teachers  got  Into  the  habit  of  bringing  a  pair 
of  shears  to  school,  and  with  these  she  tactfully 
caught  many  a  vagabond  lock  that  had  been 
skipped  because  the  home  barber  might  not  have 
had  time  to  make  a  complete  job.  Then,  too, 
she  carried  needles  and  thread  in  her  workbasket. 
There  was  a  day  when  the  patch  on  the  seat  of 
Billy  Swink's  trousers  was  seen  hanging  down  in 
an  awkward  way,  so  she  called  Billy  up,  to  tell 
him  a  story.  The  school  was  interested  in  the 
telling  of  it,  and  when  it  was  concluded  and  Billy 
was  returning  to  his  seat,  none  would  have  known 
what  her  hands  had  been  doing  but  for  Billy's 
temporary  halt  to  make  a  manual  Inspection  of 
the  job,  and  his  further  blunder  In  turning  to  the 


1 6  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

teacher,  bowing  rather  shamefacedly,  and  blurt- 
ing out: 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Lillie;  thank  you,  ma'am." 
In  the  delightful  surroundings  of  this  primitive 
seat  of  youthful  learning  attachments  were  made 
that  have  happily  threaded  lives  together  to  this 
day;  for  from  it  there  has  been  a  branching  out 
of  a  forest  of  family  trees.  And  one  attach- 
ment, of  which  the  young  people  were  scarcely 
conscious,  has  flourished  and  become  the  stronger, 
and  as  the  light  grows  brighter  in  the  face  on  the 
shortening  journey,  they  are  privileged  to  reach 
out  and  give  the  touch  of  remembrance  to  the 
hands  that  guided  their  early  steps.  I  meet  these 
sisters  yet  once  in  a  while,  but  never  without  the 
thrill  of  tender  memories. 


II 

THE  BREAKING  CLOUDS 

Chaos  reigned  in  the  South  at  the  time  I  was 
started  on  the  path  to  knowledge.  The  echoes 
of  the  Civil  War  had  scarce  died  away,  and 
soldiers  were  still  straggling  home.  The  parents 
at  that  time  had  little  opportunity, — and  less 
heart, — to  look  after  the  educational  interests  of 
their  children;  yet  in  the  face  of  the  demoralized 
conditions,  it  is  to  the  credit  of  our  forebears 
that  one  of  the  first  tasks  to  which  they  addressed 
themselves  was  the  opening  of  schools  of  one  kind 
or  another.  The  South  had  been  always  poorly 
provided  with  public  schools.  The  time  that  had 
just  gone  had  been  the  day  of  large  estates  and 
commodious  homes,  with  retinues  of  servants. 
The  children  of  the  landowners  used  to  be  sent 
off  to  colleges  and  seminaries  for  their  education. 
For  the  children  of  the  less  fortunate  class  there 
were  private  schools  and  the  old  field  school.  For 
others  there  was  no  opportunity,  except  books  in 
the  home.  Public  schools,  as  they  are  known  at 
the  present  time,  did  not  exist.  The  best  school- 
XT 


1 8  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

house  in  the  towns  boasted  but  a  single  room. 
The  old  field  schoolhouse  was  no  more  preten- 
tious; the  desk  was  unknown;  the  furniture  con- 
sisted of  rows  of  rude  benches;  only  the  better 
classes  of  buildings  had  "window  lights," — that  is 
to  say,  glass  windows;  the  blackboard  was  a 
rarity;  everything  was  in  the  rough  and  crude 
stage  of  the  pioneer  days,  typical  less  of  the  hard- 
ship of  that  period  than  of  the  neglect  of  the 
educational  interests  by  local  and  State  authorities. 

Such  being  the  condition  when  the  people  were 
called  to  war,  it  may  well  be  imagined  how  hope- 
less the  educational  task  appeared  when  town, 
hamlet,  and  country, — groping  and  stumbling 
through  the  shadows  of  wreck  and  ruin  and  de- 
vastation,— came  face  to  face  with  the  problems 
of  Reconstruction.  For  four  years  the  log  school- 
houses  had  been  practically  deserted,  and  had  gone 
to  decay  by  neglect.  The  country  schoolmasters, 
— almost  to  a  man, — had  answered  the  long  roll, 
or  had  come  back  incapacitated  by  wounds  or 
disease;  the  faculties  of  the  colleges  and  semi- 
naries had  been  depleted,  and  the  outlook  for  the 
educational  provision  for  the  youth  of  the  South 
seemed  dark. 

But  the  courage  and  resources  of  the  people 
rose  to  the  emergency.  There  were  no  funds 
with  which  to  build  and  equip  schoolhouses,  but 
vacant  houses  were  easily  obtainable  and  self-made 
teachers   developed  to   take   the  work  in  hand. 


THE  BREAKING  CLOUDS  19 

Many  of  the  women  entered  the  service  as  volun- 
teers, making  no  charges, — and  accepting  no  re- 
muneration. Some  taught  school  for  their  board. 
It  was  a  work  of  patriotism;  and  thus  did  the 
South  address  itself  to  the  solution  of  the  educa- 
tional problem  while  the  pall  from  the  smoking 
homes  still  overhung  the  land. 

Out  of  these  crude  conditions, — shouldered 
and  gradually  made  the  lighter  under  hardships, 
the  like  of  which  have  been  imposed  upon  no 
other  people  of  the  world, — has  grown  the  present 
perfected  educational  structure  of  the  South,  built 
up  of  a  system  of  rural,  town,  and  State  schools, 
until  it  forms,  as  a  whole,  the  finest  in  the  country. 
Out  of  the  travail  of  the  past  has  come  the 
Templed  Age  of  the  School.  The  stoic  courage, 
endurance,  and  determination  of  the  pedagogues 
that  blazed  the  way  to  the  present  accomplish- 
ment are  worthy  of  all  admiration.  The  experi- 
ence of  both  teacher  and  scholar  was  the  em- 
bodiment of  the  heroic  in  human  endeavor.  In 
this  day  there  should  be  no  thought  for  it  other 
than  one  of  honor  and  of  reverence. 


Ill 

POPLAR  TENT 

The  excuse  for  a  system  of  county  education 
that  existed  before  the  war  had  gone  entirely  to 
pieces  at  the  close  of  hostilities.     There  was  no 
superintendent,    no    county   board,    no   board   of 
trustees.     In  some  communities  the  leading  men 
would  exert  themselves  to  secure  a  teacher,  but 
as  a  general  thing,  it  was  the  pedagogue  himself 
that  organized  the   school.      He  would  make   a 
canvass  of  a  community  in  which  a  house  stood 
vacant,  and  securing  a  sufficient  number  of  pupils, 
would  send  out  word  of  the  coming  opening  of 
the  school. 

In  ante-bellum  days  Poplar  Tent  used  to  be 
considered  one  of  the  centers  of  affluence  in  our 
county.  It  was  a  community  of  large  estates  and 
big  families,  and  its  schoolhouse  was  of  the  better 
type  of  country  institutions;  was,  perhaps,  the  best 
in  the  county, — in  that  it  had  a  chimney,  four  win- 
dows, and  was  weatherboarded.  Its  interior, 
however,  was  barren  of  ceiling  and  devoid  of 

20 


POPLAR  TENT  21 

plaster,  while  paint  was  an  unthought-of  extrava- 
gance. 

The  schoolhouse  was  located  in  a  grove  sur- 
rounding the  church.  One  would  have  been  told 
at  the  time  that  its  furnishings  were  of  the  best. 
The  benches  in  the  Poplar  Tent  schoolhouse  were 
not  made  to  be  broken.  A  pine  log,  run  through 
the  sawmill,  made  two  benches.  The  process  of 
manufacture  was  simple.  The  flat  side  of  the 
log  would  be  laid  on  the  floor,  and  in  each  end 
of  the  rounded  outer  (bark)  side  would  be  bored 
two  holes  slanting  toward  each  other.  Into  these 
holes  long  pegs  would  be  driven.  The  pegs  were 
then  sawed  off  so  as  to  set  more  or  less  squarely 
on  the  floor.  The  bench  was  then  turned  right 
side  up,  and  was  ready  for  use. 

The  teacher, — at  least,  one  able  to  afford  the 
style, — had  a  chair  and  table.  These  he  would 
place  near  the  fireplace.  The  benches  would  be 
arranged  in  rows  across  the  room  in  front  of 
him.  Upon  these  benches, — with  no  foot-rests 
and  no  support  for  the  elbows, — the  promising 
youth  of  that  day  got  a  good  start  in  the  direction 
of  humpbacked  humanity. 

There  was  no  idea  of  sanitation,  nor  of  hy- 
giene. The  pupils  took  turns  in  sweeping  out  and 
in  carrying  water.  The  windows  were  not  washed. 
In  summer  the  boy  that  wanted  to  see  out  could 
wet  his  fist  and  rub  a  clear  spot  in  the  dirt  that 


22  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

coated  the  glass.  In  winter  It  was  the  fashion 
to  get  away  from  the  windows  and  from  the  wind 
that  would  whistle  In  through  the  ample  crevices. 

A  tin  dipper,  or  a  gourd,  served  as  the  common 
drinking  utensil.  The  teacher  that  at  that  time 
might  have  suggested  the  sanitary  drinking  foun- 
tain, or  the  individual  cup,  would  have  been 
considered  slightly  flighty.  The  dullest  man  in 
the  community  would  not  swap  horses  without  a 
close  Inspection  of  the  teeth  of  the  horse,  yet  no 
thought  was  given  the  teeth  of  the  children. 
There  was  no  quarantine  against  scarlet  fever, 
diphtheria,  or  any  other  contagious  disease,  and 
a  case  of  mumps  was  regarded  as  no  excuse  for 
a  boy  to  stay  at  home. 

It  was  a  sturdy  set  of  boys  and  girls  that  made 
up  the  average  country  school.  They  walked 
from  two  to  twelve  miles  every  school-day,  re- 
gardless of  the  weather.  Applying  the  parcel  post 
zone  principal  as  the  base  of  service  of  the 
country  schoolhouse,  we  would  find  almost  as 
many  scholars  from  the  fourth  and  fifth  zone  as 
from  the  second  and  third.  That  Is  to  say,  as 
many  children  lived  four  and  five  miles  from  the 
schoolhouse  as  lived  within  the  nearer  zones. 

At  the  Poplar  Tent  school, — barring  three  or 
four  boys, — none  was  Inside  the  one-mile  zone. 

In  spite  of  the  difficulty  of  reaching  the  school, 
the  record  of  attendance  was  above  the  average 


POPLAR  TENT  23 

of  the  present-day  city  school.  Only  rarely  did 
a  boy  play  hookey,  for  the  penalty  was  two  lick- 
ings,— one  at  home  and  one  at  school.  No  matter 
how  inclement  the  season,  the  scholar  that  missed 
a  day  would  need  to  have  a  good  excuse.  Missing 
the  roll-call  counted  up  more  demerits  than  a 
breach  of  discipline.  A  certain  number  of  ab- 
sences-without-excuse  would  call  for  expulsion. 

The  curriculum  was  limited,  and  the  little  pil- 
grims were  not  weighted  down  with  books.  Few 
were  further  advanced  than  reading,  writing, 
arithmetic,  and  spelling.  On  the  last  two  the 
country  school  was  particularly  strong.  Davies' 
arithmetic  and  Webster's  blue-back  were  the 
standards, — and  good  spellers  were  turned  out  in 
those  days.  I  can  recall  two  things  I  learned  at 
this  country  school.  One  was  to  chew  tobacco. 
The  other  was  to  write  a  good  "hand."  The 
poverty  of  the  people  was  pathetic  to  look  back 
upon.  Few  scholars  were  able  to  afford  store 
ink.  The  common  substitute  was  the  ink-ball, — 
that  unique  product  of  the  horsefly  and  the  oak 
tree, — which  produced  a  purplish-colored  fluid, 
having  the  merit  of  enduring  qualities.  The  quill 
pen  was  an  abomination  with  which  the  children 
had  small  patience.  Many  of  the  boys  could  draw 
a  slit  from  a  chair  bottom  and  with  his  "barlow" 
fashion  a  better  pen.  The  copy  book  was  a  few 
sheets  of  common  writing  paper  sewed  together, 


24  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

and  the  schoolmaster  always  wrote  the  text.  This 
was  generally  some  popular  ditty.  From  the  back 
of  my  head  comes  the  first  well-remembered  copy 
I  was  called  upon  to  labor  over  with  tongue  and 
pen: 

"My  pen  is  bad ;  my  ink  is  pale, 
My  love  for  you  will  never  fale." 

In  those  days  a  rhyme  would  not  pass  unless 
it  both  looked  and  sounded  right.  The  spelling 
was  a  minor  consideration.  The  deprivations  of 
the  time  were  reflected  in  another  way.  On  the 
dismissal  of  school  for  the  day  there  was  no 
loitering  on  the  playground.  The  pupils  hastened 
home,  where  there  were  turns  to  do  about  the 
house  and  on  the  farm.  After  school  the  boy  was 
a  farmhand,  the  girl  a  housemaid.  Crops  were  to 
be  cast,  cultivated,  and  harvested;  cows  were  to  be 
milked,  and  the  chickens  had  to  be  looked  after. 
It  was  by  firelight  in  many  instances,  by  candle- 
light in  others,  and  in  rare  cases  by  the  light  of 
a  lamp,  that  the  children's  tired  bodies  would  bend 
to  the  task  of  study.  But  the  sleep  that  followed 
was  deep  and  sound,  and  the  eyes  that  greeted  the 
dawn  knew  no  heaviness.  With  the  snappy  vigor 
of  youth,  these  scions  of  nobility  were  off  with  the 
rising  sun  for  the  routine  of  another  day,  whose 
exactions  they  well  knew,  but  of  which  they  were 
not  afraid.  There  were  no  "lifts"  in  an  auto- 
mobile, no  rides  on  a  wheel.     The  monotony  of 


POPLAR  TENT  25 

the  tramp  was  only  varied,  on  occasion,  when 
an  empty  wagon  might  be  encountered  going 
their  way.  Did  one  ever  know  a  driver  that  did 
not  take  as  much  delight  in  giving  a  group  of 
children  a  ride  as  it  gave  them  to  get  it? 


IV 

VACATION    REFLECTIONS 

Such  were  the  limited  possibilities  of  a  common- 
school  education  in  the  best  type  of  the  country 
school.  Vocational  instruction  was  as  an  idea 
unborn.  Even  in  the  larger  schools  and  colleges 
there  was  lacking  any  appearance  of  the  me- 
chanical equipment  considered  so  necessary  to  the 
practical  youth  of  the  present  time.  The  textile 
department  was  not  even  a  dream.  Drawing  les- 
sons were  luxuries  for  the  children  of  the  rich 
only,  and  no  thought  was  given  to  wood-working. 
There  was  indifference  to  the  possibilities  of  the 
development  of  a  practical  education.  Perhaps 
it  was  ignorance,  perhaps  it  was  the  fact  that  the 
parents  were  too  seriously  engrossed  in  the  greater 
problems  that  confronted  them  in  the  rehabilita- 
tion of  their  fortunes,  to  give  much  attention  to 
the  schooling  of  their  children, — quite  content 
with  the  accepted  understanding  that  they  were 
getting  "book  larnin'."     It  had  never  occurred  to 

26 


bo 

rt 

ft 

bo 

c 


VACATION  REFLECTIONS  27 

them  that  agriculture  should  be  taught  in  the 
school.  The  minds  of  the  rising  generation  were 
directed  from  the  farm,  rather  than  to  it,  and  con- 
sequently no  thought  was  given  to  the  immense 
opportunities  awaiting  the  coming  of  the  magic 
touch  of  Science  in  agriculture. 

The  slumber  of  the  country  over  the  golden 
wealth  concealed  under  the  fuzzy  coat  of  the 
humble  cotton  seed  was  an  instance.  My  vaca- 
tions were  spent  at  the  home  of  Jacob  Stirewalt, 
at  Mill  Hill,  where  from  one  forebay  were  run 
in  succession  the  wheels  of  a  flouring  mill,  a  saw- 
mill, a  woolen  mill,  and  a  cotton  gin.  The  latter 
was  my  special  delight,  and  I  became,  to  all  in- 
tents, a  "hand"  about  the  gin. 

By  common  consent  the  duty  devolved  upon  me 
of  keeping  the  gin-room  clear  of  the  accumulation 
of  cotton  seed.  A  door  from  the  floor  on  which 
the  gin  was  located  opened  out  over  the  stream. 
I  had  been  provided  with  a  wooden  shovel,  and 
with  this  I  would  dump  the  seed  from  the  door 
into  the  water,  whose  swirling  eddies  would  carry 
it  down-stream  and  away.  In  a  season  I  have  thus 
thrown  to  waste  the  seed  from  a  thousand  bales. 
But  that  was  not  all.  The  seed  that  was  not  given 
to  the  water  was  burned  as  the  easiest  way  of 
getting  rid  of  it.  The  farmers  that  brought 
cotton  to  the  gin  did  not  want  to  be  bothered  with 
the  seed.     Some  would  carry  two  or  three  bushels 


28  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

home  for  planting,  but  many  were  even  less  provi- 
dent. 

The  scenes  of  these  wasteful  days  are  as  fresh 
in  my  memory  as  if  they  had  occurred  but  yester- 
day.   It  was  fascinating  to  lean  from  the  door  of 
the    gin-house    and    watch    the    miller    start    the 
water  wheel.     With  the  raising  of  the  gate  in  the 
forebay  there  would  come  a  tumultuous  rush  of 
water,  boiling  into  a  white  foam.     It  would  leap 
from   one   wheel-box  to   the   other  until   the   ac- 
cumulated weight, — as  it  filled  the  boxes  to  the 
point  from  which  it  took  the  perpendicular  drop, 
— would  cause  the  wheel  to  begin  slowly  turning. 
As   the   wheel   gained   momentum,   the    flow   of 
water  would  be  cut  down  to  the  normal  force,  and 
with  a  musical  rumble,  the  machinery  would  re- 
spond to  the  motion  of  the  overshot  wheel.     And 
as  this  water  came  rushing  and  roaring  by  the 
gin-house,  it  would  clear  the  channel  of  the  ac- 
cumulated nuisance  in  the  shape  of  cotton  seed. 
Ah,  the  golden  dollars  that  were  floating  away! 
Had  Science  come  to  the  schoolhouse  a  few  years 
sooner,  how  much  more  quickly  would  the  South 
have  rallied  from  the  impoverishment  of  the  war! 
During  a  vacation  season  my  share  alone  in  the  un- 
witting destruction  of  wealth  in  the  cotton  seed 
must  have  amounted  to  $7,250  or  $8,000.     But 
that  was  merely  a   small  item  in  the  whole  de- 
plorable truth.     The  cotton  seed  of  the  entire 


VACATION  REFLECTIONS  29 

South, — now  a  source  of  revenue  at  the  rate  of 
$12  and  $15  a  bale, — was  wasted  treasure. 

But  there  was  a  time  when  the  farmers  came 
close  to  the  discovery  of  the  gold  mine  over  which 
they  were  walking.  It  was  the  idea  of  cotton-seed 
meal — an  idea  that  took  hold  of  the  mind  of  a 
man  in  Georgia.  He  figured  it  out  that  the  seed 
ground  up  would  produce  a  meal  that  would  be 
fine  for  fattening  cattle.  After  some  experimenta- 
tion he  evolved  a  cotton-seed  mill,  and  came  to 
North  Carolina  with  it.  He  found  an  attentive 
listener, — and  eventually  a  believer, — in  Chas.  F. 
Harris,  of  Concord.  Mr.  Harris  purchased  the 
patent  rights,  and  put  up  the  first  cotton-seed  oil 
mill  in  the  State. 

It  was  a  primitive  affair,  and  was  located  in  the 
barn  at  his  home.  The  mill  itself  was  on  the 
order  of  a  large  coffee  grinder.  At  one  side  of 
the  barn  an  old-fashioned  horse-power  cogwheel 
was  built,  which  was  connected  with  the  mill  by 
shafting.  The  speed  was  obtained  by  the  vast 
diameter  of  the  rim  of  the  large  cogged  wheel 
and  the  diminutive  side  of  the  shafting  cog.  Hand 
labor  was  employed  in  unloading  the  seed  from 
the  wagons  and  in  feeding  it  to  the  hopper.  The 
process  was  slow  and  the  result, — by  reason  of 
the  crudeness  of  the  mill  and  its  failure  to  thor- 
oughly separate  the  meal  from  the  hulls, — was  un- 
satisfactory.     But   the   principle    of   the    cotton- 


30  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

seed  oil  mill  was  there,  and  no  doubt  the  present 
perfected  system  had  Its  Inspiration  from  this 
pioneer  effort. 

I  well  remember  the  first  customer  at  the  Con- 
cord Cotton-seed  Mill.  It  was  W.  G.  Means,  who 
brought  in  a  two-horse  load  of  seed  from  his 
father's  farm,  three  miles  west  of  town.  I  had 
been  tending  the  mill  and  was  there  when  he 
came  for  the  meal.  It  amounted  to  a  little  over 
a  bushel.     Means  was  mad. 

"What,"  he  roared,  "Is  this  all  the  meal  I  get 
from  my  wagon-load  of  seed?" 

He  was  at  length  convinced  of  the  sad  truth, 
but  his  wrath  was  not  appeased,  and  he  never 
came  back.  The  product  of  this  mill  was  a  coarse, 
rich,  yellow  meal,  resembling  grains  of  modern 
gunpowder, — a  glistening,  sticky,  oily  mass.  The 
farmers  that  used  it  as  cattle  feed  bore  testimony 
to  Its  value  as  a  fattening  food  and  a  butter  pro- 
ducer. Their  only  objection  to  it  was  based  on 
its  expensiveness.  Fed  to  cows  in  its  concentrated 
richness.  It  produced  butter  that  very  properly  be- 
came famed  as  golden. 

The  operation  of  this  first  crude  cotton-seed 
mill  is  evidence  that  at  that  period  the  light  was 
almost  dawning.  The  application  of  a  little 
scientific  learning  would  have  given  the  country 
the  meal,  the  oil,  and  the  hulls  of  present-day 
commerce.      Let  some  mathematician  figure  out 


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VACATION  REFLECTIONS  31 

the  extent  to  which  the  wealth  of  the  South  would 
have  been  increased  had  the  groping  theories  of 
this  Georgia  pioneer  regarding  the  possibilities 
of  the  cotton  seed  been  followed  up  to  a  practical 
conclusion! 


GENERAL    LANE 

Hard  on  the  heels  of  the  soldiers  returning 
from  the  war,  came  General  James  H.  Lane,  com- 
mander of  the  famous  Lane's  Brigade, — glori- 
ously identified  with  the  history  of  a  hundred 
Virginia  battlefields, — and  whose  crowning  effort 
was  written  at  Gettysburg.  General  Lane's  com- 
mand was  chiefly  of  North  Carolinians,  and  with 
his  fortunes  broken,  but  with  spirit  undaunted,  in 
the  humble  capacity  of  schoolmaster  he  turned  to 
North  Carolina  as  a  perspective  field  of  liveli- 
hood. He  found  the  outlook  discouraging 
enough. 

He  secured  a  vacant  building, — a  large  barn- 
like structure, — collected  a  suflliciency  of  the  rude 
benches  of  the  times,  and  opened  a  high  school. 
His  army  comrades,  to  a  man,  sent  their  sons  to 
the  General,  and  he  had  the  largest  school  in 
that  part  of  the  State.  It  lasted  but  two  short 
terms,    however.      The    poverty   of   the    people 

32 


GENERAL  LANE  33 

caused  General  Lane  to  reap  his  pay  principally 
in  promises,  though  his  tuition  fees  had  been 
placed  at  the  starvation  point. 

Though  gentle  at  heart,  the  old  warrior's  soul 
had  been  embittered  by  the  reverses  of  the  civil 
strife,  and  he  was  unconsciously  stern  and  rigor- 
ous in  his  handling  of  the  boys.  There  were  sev- 
eral adults  in  his  advanced  class,  and  to  these  he 
gave  the  soldier  treatment.  Many  of  the  younger 
boys  remember  hiding  their  faces  in  terror  as  the 
General  was  castigating  some  one  of  the  bigger 
boys.  He  used  a  bunch  of  hickories,  and  he  would 
stand  on  tiptoe  and  come  down  at  a  rate  war- 
ranted to  make  the  dust  fly.  Only  one  student 
ever  made  resistance,  and  the  flogging  was  pre- 
cipitated into  a  fist  fight,  which  the  student, — 
who  came  out  second  best, — no  doubt  recollects 
to  this  day;  for  he  escaped  with  his  life,  and  is 
yet  in  business  in  Concord.  There  had  been  no 
softening  influences  to  tone  down  the  rugged  lines 
in  General  Lane's  face  when  the  time  had  arrived 
for  him  to  take  his  departure  from  the  field  of  his 
first  civic  endeavor  after  the  war. 

The  hopes  of  his  heart  blasted  by  the  fateful 
finality  at  Appomattox,  and  a  pauper  in  purse,  he 
went  forth  to  other  and  broader  fields. 

His  strong  point  was  mathematics,  and  arith- 
metic and  algebra  were  the  standard  studies  in  his 
school.     In  Concord  he  had  been  given  the  nick- 


34  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

name  of  "Old  Figgers";  yet  his  subsequent  career 
was  characterized  mainly  as  a  teacher  of  military 
tactics,  he  having  been  first  identified  with  the 
Charlotte  Military  Academy. 

The  writer  came  again  under  General  Lane's 
tutelage  at  the  Virginia  Agricultural  and  Me- 
chanical College,  at  Blacksburg, — now  the  Vir- 
ginia Polytechnic  Institute, — and  there  found  that 
time  and  the  warmer  smiles  of  Fortune  had  soft- 
ened his  nature,  and  that  off  the  parade-ground  he 
was  as  gentle  as  a  woman.  Yet,  as  a  disciplinarian, 
the  spirit  of  the  old  soldier  still  animated  his  breast. 
The  cadets  wore  the  bob-tail  jackets  of  the  original 
Johnny  Rebs.  The  parade-ground  was  used  for 
training  and  not  for  display,  and  forced  mountain 
marches  served  to  give  the  boys  a  seasoning  some- 
what approaching  that  of  veterans.  The  iron  of 
defeat  was  yet  in  the  General's  soul,  however,  and 
his  combativeness  was  manifested  in  faculty  rows. 
This  pugnaciousness  culminated  in  a  rough-and- 
tumble  argument  with  Professor  C.  L.  C.  Minor, 
on  the  chapel  platform, — an  incident  that  seems  to 
have  marked  the  beginning  of  a  line  of  subsequent 
faculty  troubles,  and  to  have  led  to  a  train  of  re- 
organizations that  finally  caused  a  change  in  the 
name  of  the  institution  itself.  From  Blacksburg 
General  Lane  went  to  Missouri,  where  he  served 
as  professor  of  mathematics  in  the  School  of 
Mines  and  Metallurgy,  and  later  went  to  the 
Alabama  Agricultural   and   Mechanical   College, 


GEN.  JAMES  H.  LANE 


Facing  page  34 


GENERAL  LANE  35 

where  he  finished  out  his  life  work  as  military  in- 
structor. 

It  was  a  characteristic  of  General  Lane  that 
he  never  referred  to  the  Civil  War,  nor  to  its 
outcome.  Whatever  emotions  may  have  stirred 
his  bosom,  his  lips  were  sealed.  He  was  dumb 
alike  to  reminiscence  and  to  incident,  and  his  pe- 
culiar aversion  to  any  discussion  of  the  conflict 
was  respected. 

General  Lane  was  not  a  military  genius.  He 
had  forced  himself  to  the  front  as  a  leader  by 
the  boldness  of  his  plans,  the  daring  of  his  actions, 
the  coolness  of  his  judgment,  and  his  absolute 
freedom  from  any  feeling  of  fear.  He  was  one 
of  the  bravest  officers  that  the  South  produced, 
and  he  wrote  for  himself  a  brilliant  record  on  the 
pages  of  the  history  of  the  Confederacy.  Yet  this 
valiant  leader  of  a  mighty  army  turned  his  back 
upon  the  scenes  of  military  glory  to  face  the  open 
door  of  a  country  schoolhouse!  Of  such  heroic 
stuff  as  this  was  made  the  rank  and  file  of  the 
Southern  soldier.  The  land  was  full  of  men  of 
such  caliber, — men  of  whom  this  Confederate 
general  was  typical. 


VI 

THE    POWDER   BOTTLE 

To  a  class  of  boys  and  girls, — ranging  in  age 
from  eight  to  twelve  years, — the  teacher  one 
morning  read  the  story  of  the  Cabarrus  Black 
Boys,  whose  famous  exploit  in  blowing  up  a  train 
of  powder-wagons  belonging  to  the  British  army 
forms  one  of  the  most  stirring  incidents  in  Revo- 
lutionary history. 

As  the  story  goes:  The  British  forces  were 
marching  through  this  section  of  the  State,  and 
the  wagon-train  that  carried  the  powder  supply 
went  into  camp  at  a  point  on  the  old  Charlotte- 
Salisbury  road,  six  miles  west  of  Concord.  A 
band  of  patriots  concocted  a  plot  to  destroy  the 
wagons, — a  plan  that  was  carried  out  success- 
fully. Stripped  of  detail :  The  people  who  had  de- 
cided upon  this  blow  at  the  British  cause  met  at 
an  appointed  place,  and  after  blacking  their  faces 
and  otherwise  perfecting  a  disguise,  sallied  forth 
to  the  woods  in  which  the  wagons  were  parked. 
By  stealthy  operations  they  succeeded  in  laying  a 

36 


THE  POWDER  BOTTLE  37 

train  of  powder  from  the  wagons  to  a  safe  dis- 
tance, and  to  this  they  then  applied  a  match.  The 
result  was  the  blowing  up  of  the  entire  train  of 
wagons. 

The  location  of  the  Black  Boys'  exploit  is 
historically  established,  and  is  frequently  visited, 
— being  easy  of  access.  Periodical  efforts  have 
been  made  to  have  the  event  commemorated  by  a 
monument,  though  to  this  day  nothing  has  re- 
sulted. At  recess  that  day  the  blowing  up  of  the 
British  powder-wagons  formed  the  topic  of  con- 
versation of  a  group  of  boys,  and  their  fertile 
young  brains  were  soon  forming  ideas.  One  of 
the  boys  remembered  having  seen  a  cigar  box  of 
powder  in  a  closet  at  his  home,  and  his  announce- 
ment of  this  fact  set  plans  on  foot  to  get  pos- 
session of  some  of  it.  That  was  easy.  One  of  his 
companions  produced  the  very  thing  in  the  shape 
of  a  six-ounce  bottle,  and  with  this  carefully  con- 
cealed, the  youthful  emissary  slipped  home,  got  to 
the  powder,  filled  the  bottle,  and  returned,  with- 
out having  been  discovered. 

Then  a  discussion  arose  as  to  what  should  rep- 
resent the  British  wagons.  Various  schemes  were 
suggested,  but  all  were  rejected.  At  length  it 
simmered  down  to  a  simple  proposition  of  blow- 
ing up  the  bottle  itself.  It  then  developed  that 
the  whole  crowd  was  a  little  band  of  cowards,  for 
none  volunteered  to  strike  the  match.     The  tense- 


38  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

ness  of  the  situation  was  at  the  moment  reheved 
by  the  discovery  that  there  was  not  a  match  in 
the  crowd.  That  led  Caleb  Swink  into  a  bit  of 
indiscreet  boldness. 

"Pshaw!''  he  boasted,  "if  I  just  had  a  match 
I  would  make  her  go." 

He  stood  committed  to  do  the  deed  of  bravery. 

"Wait  there!"  shouted  Harbin  Partee,  as  he 
disappeared  on  a  run  for  the  schoolhouse,  re- 
turning shortly  with  a  coal  of  fire  on  a  shovel. 
Swink  demurred,  saying  that  he  had  called  for  a 
match,  but  Partee  argued  that  the  coal  would 
answer  the  purpose,  and  clinched  matters  by  dar- 
ing Swink  to  "make  her  go." 

Then  began  a  remarkable  performance.  The 
bottle  was  placed  firmly  on  the  ground,  and  the 
boys  gathered  around  in  a  circle.  The  coal  of  fire 
was  placed  on  the  mouth  of  the  bottle  and  Swink 
endeavored  to  punch  it  down  with  the  blade  of 
a  knife.  After  he  had  made  several  unsuccess- 
ful attempts,  Partee  forgot  caution,  and  went  to 
Swink's  aid.  The  two  boys  were  squatted  on  their 
knees, — Partee  sitting  rather  straight  and  punch- 
ing at  the  coal.  Swing  leaned  back,  drew  in  a 
long  breath,  then  bent  forward  with  his  lips  close 
to  the  coal  and  blew  hard.  Instantly  a  great  bal- 
loon-shaped cloud  of  white  smoke  ascended  into 
the  air,  and  the  Black  Boys  of  history  became  the 
little  black  boys  of  tragedy.     The  faces  of  both 


THE  POWDER  BOTTLE  39 

Swink  and  Partee  were  terribly  blackened  and 
burned.  They  were  carried  to  their  respective 
homes,  and  for  weeks  it  was  a  question  whether 
Swink  would  come  through  with  his  life;  and  even 
If  he  did  so,  whether  or  not  he  would  ever  see 
again. 

Partee's  injuries  were  less  serious;  but  it  was  a 
month  before  he  was  able  to  return  to  school. 
Swink's  recovery  was  slow  and  doubtful,  but  in 
the  course  of  time  it  became  known:  first,  that  he 
would  get  well,  and  later,  that  his  eyesight  was 
safe.  Then  the  miserable  days  I  had  gone 
through  were  turned  to  days  of  rejoicing,  for  it 
was  I  who  had  stolen  the  powder  for  the  juve- 
nile reproduction  of  the  blowing  up  of  the  British 
powder-wagons.  To  this  day  any  one  having 
business  in  the  office  of  the  treasurer  of  Cabarrus 
County,  who  will  take  the  trouble  to  scrutinize 
the  features  of  the  presiding  official,  will  find  there 
souvenir  scars  that  mark  the  "Black  Boys'  "  inci- 
dent of  his  early  school  days.  Partee's  family 
were  refugees  from  the  yellow-fever  in  Memphis. 
He  later  returned  to  his  native  city,  and  became 
a  successful  man  of  affairs,  though  of  the  for- 
tunes of  his  later  years  I  have  heard  nothing. 


VII 

THE    DROMIOS 

Bill  White  was  always  going  around  humming 
Sunday-school  songs.  "Take  it  to  the  Lord  in 
Prayer,"  was  his  favorite. 

White  was  built  on  lines  that  would  have  de- 
lighted the  eye  of  a  Cubist.  There  was  nothing 
round  in  his  make-up.  Angularity  and  big  joints 
were  all  over  him.  He  had  a  way  of  taking  a 
short  step  with  his  left  leg  and  a  long  step  with 
his  right, — his  head  slightly  cocked,  and  his  chin 
up.  He  would  hum  his  everlasting  songs-without- 
words  until  he  came  to  the  last  line,  and  then  he 
would  intone  the  completion  of  the  sentence,  be- 
ginning in  a  deep,  growing  bass,  and  winding  up  in 
a  sharp  falsetto. 

None  of  the  boys  cared  to  have  White  about 
on  account  of  this  peculiar  characteristic;  but  he 
did  not  bother  any  one  in  particular,  except  John 
Burkhead.  It  was  soon  evident  that  Burkhead 
regarded  White  as  something  of  a  nuisance.  Hav- 
ing discerned  this  fact.  White  began  to  manifest 
a  delight  in  testing  Burkhead's  nerves.  Burk- 
head was  physically  a  twin  for  White, — not  so 

40 


THE  DROMIOS  41 

stocky,  but  a  little  taller,  with  the  same  an- 
gular frame  and  knotted  joints.  He  always  car- 
ried his  head  lowered  and  eyes  rolled  up  into 
the  sockets.  He  looked  as  if  he  were  ever  ready 
for  a  fight;  and  he  not  only  looked  it, — he  was. 

The  two  boys  lived  on  the  same  street,  directly 
opposite  each  other,  and  were  constant  com- 
panions. So  far  as  any  one  ever  knew,  they 
neither  liked  nor  hated  each  other. 

White  kept  up  his  persecution  of  Burkhead 
for  several  days  before  the  trouble  broke  out. 
It  was  at  "big  recess"  that  the  climax  came.  White 
had  managed  to  cut  out  Burkhead  from  the 
crowd,  like  a  steer  from  the  herd,  and  began  cir- 
cling around  him,  humming  the  well-known  song. 
Burkhead  had  stopped  still  in  his  tracks  and, 
with  head  lowered,  watched  his  circling  enemy  out 
of  the  corners  of  his  eyes.  White  had  hummed 
to  the  last  verse,  then,  singing  it  out,  wound  up 
by  smashing  Burkhead  on  the  jaw. 

The  response  was  instant.  Burkhead's  big  fist 
landed  against  the  side  of  White's  head  with  a 
force  that  might  have  floored  a  mule;  but  it  only 
jolted  White  for  a  moment.  Then  the  two  set 
in  to  see  which  was  the  best  man.  After  each 
had  knocked  the  other  down  several  times,  they 
got  into  a  clinch,  and  for  the  next  few  minutes 
first  one  and  then  the  other  was  on  top, — the 
under-dog  meantime  getting  a  tremendous  ham- 


42  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

mering.  The  fight  was  a  draw  when  the  two  at 
length  rolled  apart  and  began  knocking  off  the 
dirt  and  pulling  their  clothes  into  shape. 

"Now,"  hissed  Burkhead,  shaking  a  battered 
fist  in  White's  face,  "maybe  you  won't  come 
bringing  it  to  me  in  prayer  again  soon." 

"Maybe  I'll  do  that  very  thing,"  taunted 
White. 

There  was  still  an  armed  truce  between  the 
two  when  Bill  Willitts  entered  school.  This  fel- 
low towered  over  all  the  boys,  and  had  a  fist  two 
sizes  bigger  than  Burkhead's.  He  soon  developed 
into  the  school  bully.  The  smaller  boys  shrank 
from  him  with  the  instinct  of  self-preservation. 
Meantime,  Willetts  had  been  trying  to  "pick  a 
fight"  with  either  Burkhead  or  White, — or  both. 
While  neither  of  these  was  inclined  to  put  himself 
in  Willetts'  way,  he  took  no  particular  caution  to 
avoid  the  bully. 

It  happened  that  Burkhead  was  first  to  take 
the  test.  A  moment  or  so  after  he  and  Willetts 
had  "mixed,"  word  got  out  of  what  was  going  on, 
and  the  school  was  pretty  soon  gathered  around. 
When  White  came  up  Burkhead  was  getting  the 
worst  of  it.  Willetts  had  him  down  and  was 
pounding  him  at  a  terrific  rate.  Only  a  momen- 
tary hesitation  convinced  White  that  it  was  time 
to  act.  He  had  been  pacing  to  and  fro  at  the 
long-and-short-step    gait,    humming   his    favorite 


THE  DROMIOS  43 

song,  when  suddenly  he  shouted  out  the  line: 
"  'Take  it  to  the  Lord  in  Prayer!'  " 
And  at  the  words  he  landed  on  Willetts'  back 
with  a  pile-driver  lick. 

Willetts  raised  up  to  see  what  had  hit  him, 
when  Burkhead  quickly  slipped  from  under  him 
and  joined  White  on  top.  The  two  had  the  bully 
at  their  mercy  and  literally  battered  his  face  into 
the  ground.  When  they  ceased  the  punishment 
and  permitted  Willets  to  get  to  his  feet,  a  thor- 
oughly conquered  bully  slunk  from  the  school 
grounds, — and  was  seen  no  more. 

After  this  encounter  there  might  have  been 
expected  some  manifestation  of  feeling  on  the  part 
of  either  Burkhead  or  White;  but  there  was  none. 
It  was  noted,  however,  that  White  never  again 
hummed  the  particular  song  that  had  irritated 
Burkhead,  but  he  acquired  a  new  habit:  He  gave 
the  school  the  benefit  of  his  full  repertoire. 

And  the  boys  actually  got  to  loving  him  for  it. 


VIII 

THE  ROGERS   SCHOOL 

The  reconstruction  of  the  common  school  sys- 
tem had  its  beginning  with  the  coming  of  Mr.  B. 
Frank  Rogers,  who  later  became  one  of  the  most 
successful  elements  in  the  commercial  life  of  our 
section  of  North  Carolina. 

Mr.  Rogers  was  the  antithesis  of  General  Lane, 
of  whom  he  was  the  immediate  successor  in  the 
educational  field.  The  Rogers  regime  was  one 
of  sunshine  and  laughter.  There  was  never  a 
dull  day  in  his  school.  Gifted  with  great  orig- 
inality and  an  infinite  sense  of  humor,  he  injected 
into  the  daily  routine  of  school  life  a  spirit  of 
optimism  and  cheerfulness,  which  tended  to  make 
the  Rogers  schoolhouse  an  attraction  that  com- 
bined education  with  entertainment.  The  latter 
was  reciprocal, — each  scholar  contributing  to  it 
as  the  inspiration  might  strike  the  teacher.  As 
in  the  cast  of  some  modern  opera  troupe,  there 
were  stars  for  the  leading  parts  and  lesser  lights 

44 


THE  ROGERS  SCHOOL  45 

for  the  minor  roles;  but  every  scholar  was  an 
actor. 

Mr.  Rogers  never  used  the  rod  in  the  general 
acceptance  of  the  term.  His  desk  was  always 
littered  with  a  collection  of  crooked  cedar  stubs, 
— a  little  thicker  than  a  lead  pencil  and  about 
two  feet  long.  It  was  through  the  unique  use 
of  these  stubs  that  he  kept  the  school  in  a  good 
humor.  Sometimes  a  boy  would  be  deeply  en- 
grossed in  some  occupation, — an  employment  that 
the  teacher  had  observed  was  not  connected  with 
the  studies  of  the  day, — and  would  be  aroused 
by  a  resounding  whack  on  the  head.  Looking 
up,  he  would  find  the  teacher  laughing  into  his 
face  at  his  pained  surprise,  and  ready  to  raise 
another  knot  by  way  of  dismissal. 

On  occasion, — when  some  "stalled"  student 
would  be  arraigned  at  his  deck  for  assistance, — 
books  were  forgotten,  and  attention  was  riveted 
upon  the  proceedings.  The  teacher  would  use 
the  stick  for  making  punctuation  marks.  During 
the  performance  the  boys  would  take  advantage 
of  their  understood  privilege  of  giving  expres- 
sion to  their  enjoyment  of  the  entertainment;  but 
if  any  one  were  unseemingly  boisterous,  he  would 
be  called  to  the  desk,  and  himself  put  through  a 
performance.  Mr.  Rogers'  originality  was  of 
a  practical  bent.  There  was  never  a  day  at 
school  when  he  failed  to  discuss  some  event  of 


46  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

current  interest.  The  important  news  In  the  daily 
paper  would  be  read  and  commented  on,  and  an 
interest  was  created  in  the  political  questions  and 
the  economic  issues  of  the  times.  The  most  com- 
monplace incidents  of  the  school-room  would  be 
turned  to  account. 

There  was  one  day  when  the  teacher  happened 
to  ask  a  scholar  on  a  rear  seat  this  random  ques- 
tion: 

"How  many  days  are  there  In  this  month?" 

The  question  was  addressed  to  Lafayette 
Brown,  and  he  responded: 

"I  dunno." 

The  school  was  at  once  all  attention,  for  it  in- 
tuitively knew  that  something  was  coming. 

"General  Washington  Lafayette  Bonaparte 
Brown,"  called  out  the  teacher;  "come  up  here!" 
and  Brown  marched  to  the  desk. 

"Don't  know  how  many  days  there  are  in  this 
month,  eh?"  And  Mr.  Rogers  reached  for  a 
stick. 

"Thirty  days  hath  April — "  Brown  had  begun 
in  desperation;  but  the  teacher  stopped  him. 

"None  of  that  Mother  Goose  nonsense,"  came 
the  warning.     "Hold  out  your  fist!" 

Brown  obeyed,  and  responding  to  the  com- 
mand, presented  his  fist,  knuckles  up;  whereupon 
Rogers  explained  to  the  school  how  to  tell  the 
number  of  days  in  each  month  in  a  way  in  which 


THE  ROGERS  SCHOOL  47 

no  mistake   could   be   made.      Whack!    went  the 
stick  on  the  first  knuckle  of  Brown's  fist. 

"That's  January,  and  it  has  31  days,"  said  the 
teacher. 

Then  he  proceeded  to  show  that,  counting  down 
the  knuckles  the  top  of  each  one  represented  a 
month  with  31  days.  The  spaces  between  repre- 
sented a  month  of  30  days,  this  holding  good 
with  the  exception  of  February,  with  its  28  days 
in  common  years  and  29  days  in  leap  years. 

There  was  not  a  boy  in  the  school  who  failed 
to  grasp  the  utility  of  this  method  of  accounting 
for  the  days  in  the  month. 

One  day  the  class  in  hydrostatics  had  a  prob- 
lem in  atmospheric  pressure, — a  problem  that 
seemed  difficult  of  explanation  even  by  demon- 
stration on  the  blackboard.  Finally  Mr.  Rogers 
hit  upon  an  expedient.  He  filled  a  glass  with 
water  and  placed  it  on  his  desk.  Then,  with  a  good 
deal  of  patience  and  no  small  degree  of  skill, 
he  fashioned  a  siphon  from  two  straws,  giving 
one  long  arm  and  one  short  one.  The  short  arm 
he  placed  in  the  water  and  instructed  one  of  the 
boys  to  "give  a  pull"  at  the  end  of  the  longer 
straw  with  his  lips.  This  was  done,  and  the  water 
was  seen  to  flow  up  the  shorter  straw  and  out 
through  the  longer  arm,  until  the  glass  was 
emptied.  This  practical  demonstration  of  how 
water  can  be  made  to  run  up-hill  by  simple  pres- 


48  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

sure  of  air,  gave  interest  to  the  study  of  hydro- 
statics by  the  school. 

It  was  a  lazy,  dreamy  summer  day  when  Jim 
Cook  got  his  name  of  "Jiggers," — a  name  that 
sticks  to  him  to  this  day.  Cook  had  been  black- 
berrying  with  me  and  the  girls,  and  all  the  morn- 
ing at  school  was  in  a  restless  state, — scratching 
his  arms  with  both  hands  and  rubbing  his  shanks, 
first  with  one  foot  and  then  the  other  as  high 
up  as  the  foot  could  reach. 

Mr.  Rogers  had  been  watching  him  with  some 
curiosity,  and  at  length  called  out:  "Cook,  what 
is  the  matter  with  you?" 

"Nothin'j"  was  the  response,  " 'ceptin'  these 
here  jiggers  is  a-bitin'  me." 

The  teacher  led  in  the  laughter,  and  the  school 
felt  that  fun  was  in  the  air  when  he  summoned 
Cook  to  the  front. 

"Come  up  here.  Jiggers,"  was  the  command. 

Cook  was  placed  on  the  platform  and  there  was 
a  little  sport  with  the  stick,  during  which,  for  the 
school's  amusement,  there  was  drawn  from  the 
boy  a  detailed  story  of  the  blackberrying  expedi- 
tion, after  which  he  was  made  to  bare  his  arm. 
The  teacher  then  produced  a  microscope  and  in- 
vited the  school  to  line  up.  There  followed  an 
instructive  talk  on  the  "chigger," — its  habits, 
characteristics,  and  how  to  get  rid  of  it.  Cook 
was  told  that  in  shaking  blackberry  bushes,  he 


THE  ROGERS  SCHOOL  49 

dislodged  quantities  of  these  parasitic  mites,  and 
that  some  of  them  had  fallen  on  his  arms  and 
hands  and  had  been  scattered  over  his  body,  bury- 
ing themselves  under  the  surface  of  his  skin. 
There  they  had  become  gorged  with  blood,  which 
caused  the  irritating  sensation  that  had  aroused 
Cook  to  so  vigorous  a  state  of  activity. 

The  pupils  were  given  a  study  of  the  little  red 
bug  under  the  microscope,  and  after  all  had  wit- 
nessed it  in  operation,  they  were  told  of  the  most 
approved  method  of  getting  rid  of  the  pest.  One 
of  the  boys  was  sent  to  a  drug  store  for  a  phial  of 
ammonia,  and  Cook's  arm  was  rubbed  with  a 
rather  strong  solution.  It  had  the  desired  effect. 
Cook  was  then  given  the  phial  and  sent  home  with 
the  advice  to  make  a  thorough  job. 

So  it  went  from  day  to  day  in  Rogers'  school: 
always  some  practical  demonstration  of  incident, 
or  event  of  easy  grasp  by  the  pupils,  by  means 
of  which  was  imparted  knowledge  never  to  be 
forgotten. 

It  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Rogers' 
School  leaped  into  early  and  lasting  fame.  From 
a  modest  beginning,  with  but  a  small  group  of 
neighborhood  boys,  it  became  renowned  for  miles 
around,  attracting  a  scholastic  personnel  that  was 
not  excelled  in  the  State. 

The  best  testimonial  of  the  splendid  work  that 
B.   Frank  Rogers  performed  as  an  educator  is 


50  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

found  in  the  ratio  of  successes  to  failures  that 
he  turned  out.  Eighty  per  cent  of  Rogers'  boys 
are  successful  men  of  affairs  to-day, — business 
and  professional  men, — who,  but  recently  called 
upon  to  mourn  him  dead,  paid  him  tribute  as 
friend  and  guide  and  counsellor  invaluable. 


MR.   11.   1-.   ROGERS 


Facing  page  SO 


IX 

IN   RECONSTRUCTION   DAYS 

Since  deciding  to  have  these  sketches  put  into 
print,  I  have  concluded  that  the  object  of  the 
work  would  be  materially  advanced  by  incor- 
porating the  following  bit  of  Reconstruction 
data,  taken  from  a  letter  by  my  mother, — Mary 
Annette  Harris, — to  her  daughter,  Mrs.  James  F. 
Shinn, — a  letter  that  was  read  at  a  meeting  of 
the  Norwood  Book  Club.  The  experiences  nar- 
rated were  common  all  over  the  South  among  the 
dwellers  in  the  county.  The  incidents  of  Re- 
construction government  will  serve  to  give  a 
clearer  idea  of  the  difficulties  under  which  the 
Southern  people  took  up  the  task  of  educating 
their  children,  and  the  discouragements  under 
which  they  labored,  to  lay  the  foundation  of  the 
present  educational  structure  of  the  South. 

"The  Reconstruction  period  in  the  Southern 
States  began  with  the  surrender  of  Gen.  Robert 
E.  Lee,  at  Appomattox,  and  ended  with  the  rein- 

51 


52  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

statement  of  the  South  into  the  Union  in  1870, — 
though  active  measures  for  this  event  were  not 
before  Congress  until  1867.  In  the  meantime  the 
people  of  North  Carolina  had  been  under  mili- 
tary rule, — first  under  General  Schofield  and  then 
under  General  Canby;  with  W.  W.  Holden  ap- 
pointed Provisional  Governor  by  President  An- 
drew Johnson,  General  Scofield's  first  act  was 
to  issue  a  proclamation  of  freedom  to  every  slave 
in  the  State.  It  is  impossible  fifty  years  after 
to  so  write  as  to  give  the  present  generation  of 
young  people  a  realizing  sense  of  the  disorder, 
the  painful  surprises,  and  upheaval  in  the  do- 
mestic relations  between  master  and  servant  in 
every  home. 

"Your  father  came  straight  from  the  field  at 
Appomattox  to  our  home  at  Sandy  Ridge,  near 
Concord;  and  there  we  remained  through  the 
Summer,  with  no  money  and  scant  provisions. 
Enough  of  our  field  hands  stayed  to  work  the 
corn  and  cotton,  which  had  been  planted  before 
the  surrender  and  were  then  up  and  growing. 
Martha,  our  cook,  had  disappeared, — taking  all 
her  children  but  one, — Lize, — who  was  left  to 
nurse  the  baby.  She,  too,  in  a  few  days  vanished 
suddenly,  taking  the  road  for  Concord,  to  com- 
plain to  the  Freedman's  Bureau  that  I  had  slapped 
her,  which,  for  once,  was  the  truth.  I  had  not 
become  accustomed  to  deliberate  disobedience  on 


IN  RECONSTRUCTION  DAYS       53 

the  part  of  servants.  Your  grandmother  sent  us 
from  town  one  of  her  old  servants, — Aggie, — to 
cook  for  us;  but  Aggie  had  never  been  allowed  to 
do  a  full  day's  work,  being  too  old  to  be  so  bur- 
dened. However,  she  did  more  and  better  than 
I  had  expected,  until  (alas!)  the  wagon  sent  to 
town  in  the  morning  came  back  in  the  evening 
with  a  dried-up  specimen  of  humanity  in  it, — 
Aggie's  mother,  who  had  come  from  somewhere 
up  the  North  Carolina  Railroad  to  live  on  her 
daughter's  'Forty  acres  and  a  mule.'  The  land 
and  mule  not  being  in  hand,  both  mother  and 
daughter  got  away  somehow  without  saying 
goodbye. 

"A  regiment  of  Federals  camped  during  the 
Summer  at  Winecoff's  grove  and  overran  the 
country,  trading  their  good  coffee  and  sugar  for 
buttermilk  and  onions.  We  got  our  first  real 
coffee  from  them.  The  Freedman's  Bureau  was 
established  in  every  town,  to  hear  complaints  of 
the  negroes  in  the  Summer  and  to  compel  the 
owners  of  the  land  to  give  them  a  share  of  the 
crops  in  the  Fall.  The  officer  in  charge  of  the 
bureau  in  Concord  was  a  young  man  that  had 
lost  an  arm  in  the  war.  He  had  been  married 
only  a  few  months,  and  had  brought  his  wife 
with  him;  and  being  afraid  of  being  poisoned  at 
a  hotel  or  private  boarding  house,  they  rented 
rooms,  hired  a  negro  cook,   and  went  to  house- 


54  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

keeping.  The  officer's  wife  suffered  the  terrors 
of  death  every  time  he  would  go  into  the  coun- 
try, being  sure  some  awful  Southerner  would  mur- 
der him. 

"So  passed  the  Summer,  and  by  orders  from 
Washington,  an  election  was  held  in  October  to 
restore  civil  government  in  the  State.  Jonathon 
Worth,  of  Randolph  County,  was  elected  Gov- 
ernor,— defeating  W.  W.  Holden, — and  held 
office  for  two  years. 

"The  people  were  beginning  to  feel  that  they 
could  breathe  easily,  when,  in  1868,  another  elec- 
tion was  ordered.  The  Convention  and  the  elec- 
tions of  this  year  brought  a  culmination  of  our 
troubles.  Every  negro  of  twenty-one  years  and 
over  was  given  the  ballot;  and  20,000  white  men, 
property-holders,  responsible  for  the  good  gov- 
ernment of  the  State, — men  intelligent,  versed  in 
literature  and  political  economy, — men  of  upright- 
ness, who  had  all  been  Confederate  soldiers  as 
well, — were  denied  the  right  to  vote,  while  the 
negro  field  hand,  the  hostler,  and  the  carriage 
driver  (to  whom  the  alphabet  was  a  puzzle  and 
who  could  not  read  a  syllable  of  his  ticket)  were 
ushered  in  at  the  polls  to  drop  the  ballot  in  the 
place  pointed  out  to  them.  Moore's  'History  of 
North  Carolina'  gives  the  reason  why  the  Con- 
vention of  1868  was  ordered  so  soon  after  that 
of  1865. 


IN  RECONSTRUCTION  DAYS       SS 

"This  first  Convention  of  October  'passed  or- 
dinances repealing  the  ordinance  of  secession  of 
May  20th,  1861, — the  abolishment  of  slavery  and 
invalidating  all  contracts  made  in  furtherance  of 
the  war.  The  people  refused  to  ratify  these  or- 
dinances; and,  while  accepting  the  situation  and 
submitting  in  all  quietude  to  the  authorities  im- 
posed, they  were  yet  resolved  to  take  no  part  in 
these  constrained  reformations.'  The  Legislature 
of  1868  was  composed  principally  of  negroes,  scal- 
awags, and  carpetbaggers.  The  State  was  at  their 
mercy.  'The  reckless  expenditure  produced  the 
utmost  excitement  among  the  tax-payers  and  soon 
resulted  in  such  a  strain  on  the  State's  credit  that 
her  obligations  became  wellnigh  worthless  in  the 
stock  markets.' 

"This  hybrid  Legislature  issued  millions  of 
bonds,  which  it  succeeded  in  selling, — and  which 
the  State  repudiated, — but  which  are  yet  bobbing 
up  here  and  there  to  remind  the  world  that  ras- 
cality once  had  North  Carolina  by  the  throat.  The 
negroes, — excited  by  their  new-found  freedom, 
and  incited  by  their  new-found  friends, — organ- 
ized the  Union  League,  to  see  how  much  mischief 
they  could  do  (and  how  little  work)  ;  thus  becom- 
ing dangerous  to  life  and  property.  This  accounts 
for  the  sudden  and  terrifying  appearance  of  the 
Ku  Klux  Klan,  whose  ghostly  figures  soon  dis- 
banded the  League.     But  before  the  League  fell 


S6  MY  SCHOOL  DAYS 

to  pieces,  many  depredations  and  outrages  were 
committed.  These  were  summarily  punished  by 
the  Ku  Klux  Klan.  Governor  Holden  issued  re- 
peated orders  demanding  the  cessation  of  violence. 
At  length,  when  a  negro  legislator, — Stephens  by 
name, — was  murdered  in  the  courthouse  at  Yan- 
ceyville, — murdered  so  mysteriously  that  the  per- 
petrator was  never  discovered, — the  Governor, 
under  authority  of  the  Shoffner  bill,  called  out 
troops,  under  command  of  George  W.  Kirke,  of 
Tennessee. 

*"In  a  few  days,  more  than  a  hundred  citizens 
of  Alamance,  Caswell,  and  Orange  counties  were 
arrested  and  imprisoned.  Among  this  number 
was  Josiah  Turner,  editor  of  The  Raleigh  Sen- 
tinel. He  had  daily,  in  righteous  indignation, 
'dipped  his  pen  in  vitriol,'  and  in  biting  sarcasm 
and  ridicule,  exposed  the  infamous  proceedings 
dmong  the  law-makers  of  North  Carolina.  The 
readers  of  his  paper  will  never  forget  the  fearless 
editorial,  which  would  have  brought  the  blood,  like 
a  whip-lash,  to  a  sensitive  man's  face.  These 
soldiers  under  Kirke,  were  called  'Kirke's 
Lambs,'  in  contemptuous  irony  of  their  brutality 
in  the  treatment  of  the  prisoners  in  their  power. 

"For  bringing  troops  into  the  State  in  times  of 
peace.  Governor  Holden  was  impeached,  found 
guilty,  and  declared  incapable  of  holding  any 
further  honor  or  dignity  in  the  State.  Lieutenant- 
Governor  Todd  R.  Caldwell,  of  Burke  County, 


IN  RECONSTRUCTION  DAYS       57 

took  Holden's  place  as  governor.  Caldwell  died 
while  in  office,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  lieutenant- 
governor,  Curtis  H.  Brogden,  of  Wayne  County. 

"By  1870  the  best  people  of  the  State  had  got 
upon  their  feet  again,  and  in  the  election  of  1872 
sent  Gen.  M.  W.  Ransom  and  Judge  Merrimon 
to  the  United  States  Senate.  In  1877,  our  'War 
Governor, — Zebulon  B.  Vance, — was  reelected 
governor  by  an  overwhelming  majority.  North 
Carolina  had  come  into  her  own  again. 

"All  that  the  hatred  of  the  North  could  do 
to  ruin  the  South  had  been  done,  but  neither  in- 
tended humiliation  nor  actual  spoliation  could 
crush  the  manhood  of  her  sons;  and,  in  the  su- 
periority of  their  Southern  blood,  they  have  arisen 
and  made  the  South  what  it  is  to-day.  We  can 
well  rejoice  that  we  are  the  most  coveted  section 
of  the  Union,  blessed  with  abounding  prosperity, 
— our  people  God-fearing,  law-abiding,  peaceful, 
and  contented,  happy  in  the  manifold  mercies  and 
advantages  of  what  has  been  so  well  called  'God's 
Country.'" 

THE  END 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

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